SONG OF PRAISE.
Though man neglects my sighing,
And mocks the bitter tear,
Yet does not God my crying
With kindest pity hear?
And when with fierce heat panting
His hand can be my shade,
And when with weakness fainting
Support my aching head.
And when I felt my cares
For those his love can save,
Will he not hear the prayers
Of the poor negro slave?
Yes, for the poor and needy
He promises to save,
And who is poor and needy
Like the poor negro slave?